Breaking the Ice

eight

My phone was heavy in my right hand as I sat in the back of my English class, but not nearly as heavy as the slip of paper in my left.

I bit my lip, staring at the black screen. I could see myself through it, warped by greasy fingerprints. I was trying to build the nerve to talk to Beau, just to shoot him a text. But for some reason, just pressing the 'send' button was so damn difficult.

Maybe it was because the night we had hooked up kept me up at night. I toggled between horniness and shame thinking about it. I felt perverted, I think, having that kind of sex. But then I remembered his pretty face backlit by the streetlamps as he leaned into my car window, and I felt my breath evaporate and my mind urging me to just fucking text him every hour of the day.

I never really cared for English class, but I was fine at it. I had already completed the book report that the teacher, Miss. Bortz, was prattling on about, so instead, my mind was focused on the task at hand. I flicked my phone on and off, chewing my lip, before finally flicking it open to stare at the message I had just spent the last half hour carefully constructing.

hey, it's luke

My finger hovered over the 'send' button, close but not there, but just as I was about to delete the comma for fear of sounding like I was trying too hard, I startled at the bang! of a hand slamming the top of my desk.

I jumped, accidentally pressing the send button and hissing quiet curses, but fumbled to turn my phone off and look up at Miss. Bortz. She looked pissed beyond Hell, with her arm which wasn't pushing my desk propped on her hip and her foot tapping the ground impatiently.

"What are the rules in here about phones, Mister Donovan?" she asked, cocking a brow. I swallowed back a string of choice words and opted for a polite, albeit forced, smile.

"No phones from bell to bell," I replied, placing my phone in her hand when she held it out. Miss Bortz snatched it up, placing it on her desk with an exaggerated flourish. I was sweating, knowing what she was going to say.

She looked at me and smiled, sharp at the corners. "I don't care that it's Halloween, my classroom rules still apply. You can come pick this up at the end of the day." Shit. "Now, do you mind telling me about Oedipus Rex and it's themes about fate versus free will? Or were you not paying attention?"

I licked my teeth, biting back my anger. "Oedipus deals with themes of free will through the use of blindness to the truth, as symbolized by Oedipus sticking a needle in his own eye, which is his only true act of free will in the entire play. He also plays a game of tug-of-war with fate, with his destiny being determined by factors out of his control alongside his own choices, making a blurry case for a definitive answer." I reached into my backpack, pulling out a stapled stack of papers and slapping it down on my desk with an easy kind of smile. "Can I submit my report early, Miss?"

Her grin melted. "I—well, I suppose you could."

She walked over and slipped the paper onto her own desk before giving me a pointed stare and continuing her lecture. I slumped back into my seat, looking up at the ceiling, suddenly anxious. Miss Bortz had my phone, which was currently watching a risky text, and I would have to wait another four hours to check it again.

When the bell finally rang for lunch, I hurried to pack my things and brush by my classmates to Coach's office. I arrived to Simon sitting on the floor, his laptop and textbooks sprawled around him, cluttering the entire room. I stepped over a few highlighters and went to sit on the couch in the far corner, crossing my legs under me.

"What are you working on?" I asked. He looked at me, smiling briefly.

"I have a calc test on parametric equations on Monday, and I think I'll be too hungover after tonight to even try to study this weekend," he said. "Vinny's parties knock the life out of me, and calc three's no joke."